


Seasons

by Unkeptpromises



Category: ONF (Band)
Genre: College, Happy Ending, M/M, Requited Unrequited Love, Temporarily Unrequited Love, amazing i know, if hyojin hadn't made them drop out and become idols, not porn this time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 08:22:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30052626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unkeptpromises/pseuds/Unkeptpromises
Summary: Hyojin and Seungjun share an inseparable fate.
Relationships: Kim Hyojin & Lee Seungjun | J-Us, Kim Hyojin/Lee Seungjun | J-Us
Comments: 3
Kudos: 25





	Seasons

Hyojin leans into Seungjun the way a plant leans into sunlight and no one ever thinks anything of it. At some point, Hyojin realizes he is a boulder tumbling down a steep and rocky hill, and Seungjun is the valley he tumbles toward, and it is there in Seungjun's arms where he can come to rest. But to Seungjun, blissfully unaware of the type-faced printed words Hyojin wishes to imprint into the light touches and brief caresses they share, Hyojin is nothing more than a peer, a confidante, a friend—a best friend. But just as the night sky cannot help but fall in love with the stars, Hyojin is in love with Seungjun. He glories in his presence, but remains just as silent as the stretch of navy nothingness above them.

***

Crisp, autumnal wind marks the commencement of a new semester, and the anticipation lingering in the air feels tangible. To test this theory, Hyojin extends a hand out in front of him, swiping his fingers through the frosty air with no resistance, coming up with nothing, just the hollow emptiness of vacant space. His fingers twitch toward those of the boy walking beside him but then fall limply at his side. As if to punctuate the unsustainable heat of another’s touch, Seungjun tucks his hand safely away in the pocket of his coat, completely oblivious to the inner struggles brewing like a tropic storm within the heart of the man beside him. Their hurried footsteps toward the lecture hall echo in perfect time with the rapid beating of his heart, and glimmers of immortality splash across Hyojin’s thoughts, sure that he is racking up enough heartbeats to last him a few hundred extra years.

Hyojin wills the chiming of the bells signaling the start of class to cast a spell over him, to transform him into someone that does not have feelings for his best friend, someone who can laugh and smile and watch _him_ laugh and smile and feel nothing. Lost in thought, he feels a tug on his sleeve and upon looking down, immediately registers that the pressure comes from Seungjun’s hand. A twinge—and nothing. He smiles an embarrassed smile and follows Seungjun into the classroom he had just wandered past.

He does not notice the way the sun rips through the sky and pours its light directly onto Seungjun’s locks of soft, black hair, on fire in the yellow rays drifting through the glass-paneled window. He does not notice the way his eyelashes fan out over his eyes, their dark hue standing in such beautifully stark contrast to the pallor of Seungjun’s skin, like two palm trees providing shade on a sandy white beach. He does not notice the way his lips scrunch together when he thinks, or the way his thoughts flash across the expressions of his face, fleeting and elusive, subliminal images writing themselves into Hyojin’s heart without his knowledge or permission. He does not notice the way Seungjun merely exists is beautiful.

Except that he does. He notices everything—and locks it away.

***

Winter comes in a whirlwind of white. The once crisp air is now piercing, a force not to be reckoned with. Mismatched scarves, gloves, and hats adorn the figure of the boy standing in his doorway lopsidedly, tousled black locks poking out from beneath the piles of cloth. _Ready?_ He seems to ask with a mere flicker in his eyes, the only identifying feature not obscured by weather protection, and Hyojin cannot suppress his smile. He glances down at his own winter attire, each piece complimenting another, all colors tied together perfectly and somehow, he is the one that feels out of place.

Excuses spawn from extra cups of coffee and multiple layers of blankets, the students’ unwillingness to brave the cold and leave the comfort of their fortress of warmth. They come in the form of imagined illnesses and ailments, traveling to their professors in e-mails, but never needing anything more than a smile for each other. The two pour over sheet music, distracting, enigmatic scribbles having appeared in the margins as the weeks had progressed, though Hyojin suspects Seungjun’s hand is responsible for them. He clings to them like a beacon, assigning the task of deciphering them to himself. The clock rolls over and suddenly the hours that stretch out before them seem so much later, longer, and more tiresome. Sucking on caffeinated drinks like a lifeline and attempting to explain the key change in the symphony they were studying, a sudden warmth against his chest and a small thud has Hyojin’s voice stopping in his throat. He stares down at Seungjun, fast asleep against him and notices that the heat radiating from Seungjun’s skin calms him and cancels out all the frigidness in the air better than any steaming cup or expanse of cloth could ever do. In that moment, he realizes Seungjun is his salvation and the universe seems to implode, enveloping itself inside Hyojin. Filled with the entirety of the cosmos and yet so alone, Hyojin does not close his eyes in sleep until the light and warmth of the sun dispel his feeling of loneliness and Seungjun’s eyelids flutter open, unfocused, and then locked on Hyojin’s. Chinks are beginning to form in his mask, but neither student says anything. Seungjun merely trudges off toward the bathroom, a blanket wrapped around him like a cocoon, and Hyojin fixes his eyes on the horizon, because that is where he hears people see change, and refuses to look away.

***

Spring comes late, a few tentative flowers blossoming through the snow, one at a time, testing the air and waiting before the world is in full bloom and bursting with color. On the first official day of spring, Hyojin finds Seungjun with paintbrush in hand, leaning out of the window and waving it before him like a wand.

“What are you doing?” he asks, staring amusedly at the child-like stature of the man before him.

“Painting.”

“..What?”

“Winter makes your eyes look sad, so I’m just adding a splash of color.” He swivels around on his seat, turning to face Hyojin, who is smiling and resisting the urge to run forward and encircle the stunning creature before him in his arms forever. “See? The light suits you better.” And with that, he busies himself once more with painting away the winter. Hyojin looks beyond him and fixes his eyes on the distant horizon, sending his silent thanks.

Bottles of soju and wine litter the ocean of their floor surrounding the island table on the night after their last exams. Lips stained and eyes red to match, the boys revel in the freedom of newfound summer. Hyojin, inhibitions depleted for the night, is captured by Seungjun’s silver tongue and sly eyes. It is clear which of the two of them holds their liquor best as Hyojin reaches forward to tuck a lock of hair behind Seungjun’s ear. At first, the action is simple, innocent, even, but Hyojin does not remove his hand. Snaking it behind Seungjun’s head, Hyojin brings their lips colliding together, and his senses erupt with all that is Seungjun. He tastes like alcohol and mint and Seungjun and everything in the world is right. To him, Seungjun is the lighting that strikes trees and waves that erode rocks, leaving a lasting impression on all he comes into contact with. The world could tilt on its axis but nothing could erase the imprint he leaves.

A rustling, a gasp, and loss of heat. Suddenly he is left alone and winter has come again. The distant sound of a slamming door deafens him.

Solitary on a sea of empty mistakes, he is ready to raise his white flag. Tears sting his eyes, and he is not sure he will be able to recover, not sure if he will be able to locate all of the pieces of his shattered heart. Despite the warm air wafting through the open window, languidly blanketing the flat, Hyojin is numb and yet every pore on his body stings. He ghosts his way out of the apartment and somehow finds himself wandering unfamiliar streets. Completely unfazed, his feet continue to trudge onward, leaving the wreckage of his shattered dreams in a trail behind him, joining the fragments of his battered heart. With a scream of thunder and lightning, the sky is torn asunder, crying tears to rival those of Hyojin, drenching him to the bone and reminding him of an endless sea where no land is in sight. Somehow however, he must have ended up in a forest, because vines are wrapping themselves around him and he can no longer feel the rain drumming against his skin. He trusts nothing, not his heart, not his mind, and now not even his vision, for when he opens his eyes, he is in Seungjun’s arms, a green umbrella held aloft to protect him from the sky’s tears. He blinks once, twice, three times, and the scene does not change.

“I’m sorry,” pours from Seungjun’s lips like honey. “I panicked and overreacted. I’m sorry.”

Hyojin is a pillar against Seungjun, unsure which reality to believe. He can feel the effects of the alcohol fading; the world is brought into sharper focus as the blurriness is dispelled. Seungjun’s face is earnest and close; his lips are no longer stained. As he focuses on Seungjun’s mouth, it grows closer and closer, imminent, lush pillows obstructing his vision completely until the impossible becomes possible and Seungjun is kissing him full on the mouth, his hands on his ribcage so that Hyojin is certain Seungjun can feel his fully mended heart thrumming against it erratically, desperate to free and lodge itself into Seungjun’s very being. The umbrella falls to the ground with a clatter. Neither man takes any notice, too lost in the glory of the other’s lips.

***

Summer had come once more, bypassing all the transformations and bursting immediately with warmth and color. Hyojin holds Seungjun like water, fearful he will pass through the cracks in his fingers and be gone as quickly as he had come. It takes time to realize that Seungjun sees in him the same things he sees in Seungjun, and when both pairs of their eyes become a cohesive black hole, Hyojin stops fearing and is consumed completely by love, leaving no room for any negative emotions. Seungjun, by some miracle, is his, and he recalls the horizon he had seen change over and thinks that the grass truly is greener on this side.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired in part by: https://twitter.com/etionman/status/1367825886649610241


End file.
